


Mo's Auto Shop

by DroughtofApathy



Series: A Thousand Lifetimes [14]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Car Trouble, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Lady mechanic getting the job done right, No Strings Attached, lady businessperson being thirsty af, oh no, what ever will they do...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 04:54:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17615885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DroughtofApathy/pseuds/DroughtofApathy
Summary: Auto trouble brings a frazzled businesswoman to a small town auto shop with a sinfully attractive female mechanic who should not possibly be allowed to look that good covered in grease and sweat. And her arms... Dear god, this woman could probably bench press her.





	Mo's Auto Shop

Sylvia supposed this was what she got for relying on her place of employment to set her up with a rental car. One would assume a multi-billion-dollar corporation would be able to set one of their loyal employees up with a semi-decent car. And really, Sylvia knew she could easily have refused the car and paid for something that didn’t seem like a safety threat out of her own pocket. But frankly, she didn’t have time to listen to the man at the counter to mansplain all day at her. 

She took the car, and every moment she sat on the driver’s seat Sylvia regretted ever leaving home that morning. The GPS in her phone kept cutting out, bouncing her position across the entire state of nothingness. Honestly, why she had to travel to the middle of Arizona, miles outside of any remotely populated town, was beyond her.

Exhausted, hot, and pissed off, she gritted her teeth and continued driving. The strange noises coming from god-knows-where made her think she definitely needed to find herself a garage with a mechanic that, preferably, wouldn’t leer at her, or try to scam her out of a few bucks because she was a tiny Asian woman.

It took an hour and a half of driving to find _something_ other than dead grass and cacti, and the town she did pull into looked like something out of the twilight zone. A literal tumbleweed blew down the main street, and an elderly man sat in a rocking chair outside a mercantile smoking a pipe. She asked him where she might find a mechanic, and he directed her to Mo’s Garage about ten minutes straight ahead. Thanking him, she started off for Mo’s.

The garage looked deserted save for a few cars jacked up on lifts. Only slightly expecting to be kidnapped and sold into sex-slavery, Sylvia pulled in. Anxiously, she poked around the garage, looking for any sign that a human being occupied the area. No one was in the startlingly organized office, nor appeared to be in the garage itself.

“Um, sorry. Is anyone here?” Sylvia called out, feeling like the white girl in a horror movie. Sighing, she turned to leave thinking the day couldn’t possibly get much better than this. Then, out of nowhere, a figure rolled out from underneath a car, and stood right in Sylvia’s path. Stifling a shriek, Sylvia jumped back.

“Sorry,” the woman, for she was definitely a woman, said. “I had my earbuds in. My name’s Mo; what can I do for you?” Sylvia stared. The woman, Mo, was extremely attractive.

Dressed in a just a thin white tank top with, Sylvia just happened to notice, no bra, and grimy red coveralls, complete with combat boots, Mo stood at almost six feet. Her hair, consisting of unruly red waves, sat atop her head in a messy bun. Dear god, this woman could probably bench press her.

“My apologies,” Sylvia said, clearing her throat when she noticed how long she’d been staring. “I’m having trouble with this rental car, but I’m afraid I have no idea what the issue is.” Mo smirked down at her, crossing her arms over her chest. Sylvia didn’t miss the way it impressively displayed her toned arms.

Then, motioning to a rusted bench just outside the office area, Mo told her she’d get right on it. Not trusting the rust to not ruin her skirt, Sylvia opted to stand, observing the mechanic as she poked around under the hood. Sylvia didn’t pretend to know what the hell she was doing there, but found it interesting to watch either way. But after catching herself staring at the hot mechanic’s ass, Sylvia tore her gaze away.

“This thing is a disaster waiting to happen,” Mo said, emerging from under the hood. “I can fix it, but since it’s a rental just like you say, I’d just file a complaint with the company and return it as is. No use paying for something this shitty. Oh, sorry.” Sylvia very much wanted to hit something in spite of the likelihood she’d hurt herself rather than cause any damage to anything else.

“This just isn’t my day,” she muttered. “Right, do you know where the nearest rental place is, and please don’t tell me the airport I just came from.” From Mo’s look of sympathy, Sylvia knew exactly what her answer was going to be. Oh, she was definitely not going to make her conference at this rate. She had, what, three more hours of travel on a conference that started in two. And that was with a functioning car.

“I can give you and this piece of junk a lift back to the airport, but I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until tomorrow. I’ve got to get these two babies up and running. There’s, uh, there’s no motel or anything around here, but you’re welcome to my couch if you like.” Mo shrugged, and Sylvia caught the slight blush spreading down her neck.

“Do you let all of your customers into your home?” Sylvia teased, deciding that if she was going to return to work without having fulfilled her job, she might as well enjoy herself while she could.

“Only the pretty women,” Mo answered with a wink. She could play the flirting game all night long. Sylvia bit her lip, looking away. Protesting that she could hardly be called pretty after the day she’d had, Sylvia toyed with the hem of her skirt. Mo considered that. Sure, the woman who stood in front of her looked like a hot mess, and the scowl on her face would have surly be disconcerting had Mo not been the type of woman to wear that expression on the daily. But she was still definitely pretty. Sylvia scoffed at that, but a small smile slipped out all the same.

Not particularly comfortable being in a stranger’s apartment alone, and fairly certain Mo didn’t feel at ease with the idea either, Sylvia settled in the small office area. Mo mentioned it would be best to leave the door propped open because the air conditioner conked out yesterday and she hadn’t had a moment to fix it. So, sweating profusely, the smaller woman threw her blazer aside, and rolled up her sleeves.

She managed to skype into the conference, though she kept her webcam blacked out. She really didn’t think her fellow businesspeople needed to see her with half her shirt unbuttoned, and looking like she wanted to murder them all. Which, granted, was an expression they often experienced from Sylvia, but she still had to at least attempt at a display of professional civility.

Hours later, after she’d caved and removed her stockings, Sylvia broke out a grotesquely melted candy bar, and knocked back a good quarter of the tepid water from the cooler in the corner. Distantly, she heard Mo exchange pleasantries with one of her customers before they took off in their newly repaired vehicle.

“Sorry it too so long,” Mo said, long after the sky started turning colors. She led Sylvia up to a little apartment above the garage. “Um, it’s not terribly fancy, but feel free to make yourself at home. Er, the shower’s just through there, so just use whatever towels you need. Ah, shit. You haven’t eaten all day. Shit, I’ll get something whipped up.”

Sylvia gratefully stole away to the bathroom, though she only managed to stand under a cold shower for a few moments before jerking the handle up. She sighed in relief, the hot water washing away the day’s dirt and grime. God, it felt wonderful to be clean again. Then, realizing she’d left her bag on Mo’s couch, Sylvia wrapped a towel securely around her small frame and marched out to get it.

“I hope you’re not a vegetarian, because I’m just frying up some burgers,” Mo said, turning around. Her jaw dropped as she took in the sight before her. Unconcerned with her own lack of dress, Sylvia nodded her approval, riffling around in her bag for something to wear. She turned, catching Mo staring lustfully.

“Better make sure those burgers don’t burn,” she commented, walking back to the bathroom with a little extra swing in her hips. Mo swallowed thickly, turning back to the food. When eventually Sylvia did come back out, Mo relinquished the cooking to her and ducked into the shower herself.

Sylvia hummed to herself as she searched through the sparse cabinets for plates and utensils. Had Mo been someone else, she might not have felt as secure standing in her sleepwear in the apartment of a stranger. Had Mo been a man, Sylvia probably wouldn’t have even stopped at the shop for more than the time it took for him to tell her she had gotten a shit car.

Mo reentered the kitchen dressed in a clean tank top and almost obscenely short shorts. Sylvia stared. Something she’d been doing a lot of lately. Scrubbed clean of motor oil and grease, Mo’s pale skin was tinged pink. She made Sylvia sit while she got them both something to drink.

“It’s probably none of my business,” Mo said, cutting into her burger. “But from the way you were dressed earlier, you look like you’ve got a few nickels to rub together. So, what’s with the shitty car?” Sylvia sighed, launching into the least whiny version of her story. Mo nodded in sympathy.

“What about you?” Sylvia asked after she felt like she’d complained enough for one night. “You look like you’ve got a good name here in town. A woman running an auto shop doesn’t exactly conform to gender norms. That’s, uh, that’s pretty attractive.” Sylvia adjusted her glasses, wetting her lips. Mo had to shake herself before answering. Clearly, Sylvia was flirting with her. At least, Mo was fairly certain. Maybe Sylvia just had a naturally complimentary nature, though somehow Mo doubted it.

After dinner, they washed and put up the dishes, casually conversing about nonsensical things. They stood next to each other in the bathroom scrubbing at their teeth. It all seemed strangely domestic.

“Look,” Mo said, finally deciding to tackle the elephant in the room. “You’re really hot, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t into you. If you’re not attracted to me, just stop me right now, but uh, if you want to take this into the bedroom, that’s more than fine with me.”

“I like a woman who doesn’t beat around the bush,” Sylvia murmured, smirking. Mo grinned, pulling her towards the bedroom. It looked just as neat and tidy as the rest of Mo’s place. They didn’t waste time on formalities, instead stripping themselves quickly. Once bare, they hungrily eyed each other.

Christ, Sylvia thought, half clouded with lust. She and Mo were just so differently built. Mo was this tall goddess of a woman, all muscle and sinew. Her skin practically glowed in the harsh lighting, and her flaming red hair fell past her shoulders. Brimming with strength, Mo lifted the small woman onto the bed, pressing her down gently.

Sylvia sighed, pulling the taller woman flush against her. They didn’t waste time with words, instead caught up in the feeling of the other woman’s skin on theirs. With a great effort, Sylvia rolled them over, pining the taller woman to the bed. Mo gasped, shuddering as Sylvia nipped at her neck. She’d never really cared whether or not her lovers marked her, but right then she really wanted this woman to bite down and leave her mark. She pressed into Sylvia harder, sighing in relief as Sylvia got the hint.

Mo trembled in anticipation, scratching down Sylvia’s back with her blunted nails. She let her hands trail lower, squeezing the other woman’s tiny ass. God, everything about her was so tiny. Used to being on top, Mo felt her control ebbing away, and found she really didn’t give a damn. Not as long as Sylvia kept touching her like that.

Sylvia could sense Mo’s acceptance, loving the way she easily acquiesced to Sylvia’s ministrations. She greedily palmed a small and pale breast, rolling a nipple between her fingers. Mo keened, throwing her head back. The ache between her legs grew stronger and more pronounced. Unwittingly, she bucked her hips, seeking just some kind of friction.

Sylvia chuckled, wrapping her lips around Mo’s hardened nipple, biting down. From the way Mo growled lowly, she gathered the redhead was into that sort of thing.

“P-please!” Mo gasped, unable to take much more teasing. And while Sylvia was fairly sure she could have teased Mo for hours and she’d like it, she wanted to be between Mo’s long legs as much as Mo did.

She reverently pushed apart Mo’s thighs, nipping at the pale flesh. It seemed to be the only part of the woman that wasn’t rock hard. Above her, Mo whimpered needily, running her calloused hands through Sylvia’s long hair. And Sylvia gave in, teasing apart Mo’s engorged folds with her tongue.

“Oh, god!” Mo groaned, arching her back. “Please, please. Fuck me, please!” And how could Sylvia deny her after that? Without taking her eyes off Mo’s, she slowly sucked on her own fingers, wanting them as slick as possible before she penetrated Mo’s vagina. At last, Sylvia teased Mo’s soaked entrance, pressing against her bucking hips and preventing her from getting any more than Sylvia intended to give her.

Only after Mo settled herself did Sylvia finally, _finally,_ press her fingers into Mo’s wet center. The redhead nearly sobbed in relief, unable to stop her hips from gently rocking as Sylvia slowly pumped them in and out. Gradually, the smaller woman picked up speed, twisting and crooking them all the while.

But even as Mo cried out in pleasure, even as she clawed at Sylvia’s back, Sylvia knew it wasn’t enough. Mo needed more. Sylvia stilled her hand, ignoring the noise of protest above her. Lowering her mouth onto Mo’s aching pussy, she lapped at her hypersensitive clit. Mo arched up, crying out loudly.

“Oh, fuck,” she panted, gripping at the bedsheets. “G-god, fuck! I – ah! – close. So close. F-fuck, Sylvia. Please!” With one hand, she fondled her own breasts, teasing at the sensitive nipple. She could feel her orgasm building and building. Pleasure threatened to overwhelm her, but unwilling and unable to stop it, Mo could only manage to let out one last desperate shriek before her climax hit. She jerked violently, eyes rolling back into her head. And throughout her orgasm, Sylvia did her best to continue licking and fucking her through it. At last, overstimulated, Mo managed to nudge her away.

“Jesus Christ,” she said in a daze. Sylvia laughed, her face lighting up. Mo, still recovering, couldn’t help but smile in return. It’d been too long since she’d indulged in a little fun. Languidly, she rolled over to face her lover, grinning wickedly.

“Don’t dilly dally,” Sylvia said, wanting it to sound somewhat stern, but knowing she just sounded desperate. And really, she was. She pushed down on Mo’s strong shoulders, not wanting her to waste time. Mo obliged, laughing at her impatience. She figured she had a right after what Sylvia put her through.

Sylvia’s thighs were slick with arousal, and she whimpered frantically as Mo licked at the length of her slit. Insistently, she gripped at Mo’s hair, pulling her flush against her. Breathily, though nowhere near as far-gone as Mo had sounded, Sylvia directed Mo to stay on her clit. Never one to be particularly vocal about her pleasure, Sylvia instead elicited soft gasps, the only major indication Mo was doing something right her trembling thighs.

With a soft exhale, Sylvia’s entire body grew slack as she came. From between her relaxed thighs, Mo smirked up at the satisfied woman. Languidly, Sylvia raised her head, pulling Mo up for a kiss.

Careful to keep most of her weight on her own forearms rather than on the tiny woman beneath her, Mo comfortably spread herself over the other woman. For just a moment, the two women didn’t move, instead enjoying the feeling of the other’s skin. Finally, Sylvia spoke.

“Think you’re up for round two?” she asked, raising her thigh and very deliberately pressing it into Mo’s pussy. The startled yet lustful gasp from the redhead answered that question well enough.

With a sly smirk, Sylvia gripped Mo’s thighs, pulling her up. It took a moment for Mo to get the hint, but once she did, the taller woman scrambled up to straddle Sylvia’s face. But as Sylvia worked her, what Mo assumed just had to be, magic tongue, she realized that perhaps this wasn’t the safest position for her to be in. She braced herself against the headboard, using every ounce of self-control she possessed to keep from accidently smothering the tiny woman. Or crushing her skull.

Mo shuddered, the morbid thought temporarily cooling off her burning need. But Sylvia’s persistent tongue quickly pulled her back. She cried out, bucking her hips. Sylvia had to dig her nearly non-existent nails into her hips, gripping as tightly as possible, to keep Mo in place.

“Oh, god, fuck me,” Mo said, voice even huskier than usual. “Sylvia, fuck me, please.” Somewhere in her pleas, Mo heard herself demand – though her desperate tone didn’t exactly scream authority – that Sylvia touch herself. The only indication that Sylvia had listened was the hand on the left side of her hips disappear.

Panting heavily, she desperately ground her pelvis into her lover’s eager mouth. Sylvia, though hardly able to breathe the closer Mo got, relied on her instincts to bring Mo off. She could sense the other woman’s impending climax, and frantically rubbed harder at her own sex.

Mo, mere seconds from orgasming, chanced a glance over her shoulder. She whined, seeing Sylvia with a hand between her own legs. Deeply erotic to see, Mo choked out a whimper, shuddering as her climax hit her full on. She shrieked, leaning heavily on the bedframe to keep from crushing the tiny woman.

Her eyes suddenly shot open, feeling the wood splinter under her. Quickly, she scrambled off of Sylvia’s face, still not entirely rebalanced. She flailed slightly, landing heavily on the mattress. Next to her, Sylvia threw her head back, having finally reached her own orgasm.

A moment later, she sat up to stare curiously at the broken headboard. Looking partially amused, and mostly entirely too smug with herself, she asked Sylvia if she had a towel handy to wrap around the piece of wood for the night.

“Tomorrow we can go about trying to fix it,” she said matter-of-factly. “But for tonight it’s best if we wrap it to keep the splinters contained. I really don’t fancy waking up with wood embedded in my skin. I mean, unless you’d rather I move to the couch.” Suddenly, Sylvia looked unsure, stubbornly fixing her gaze on the headboard.

“Stay,” Mo requested softly, and Sylvia beamed at her. While Mo went in search of a kitchen towel and a bit of string, Sylvia burrowed beneath the blankets, settling herself on a mattress that now struck her as far more lumpy when she wasn’t being deliciously eaten out.

Mo returned, making short work of the splinter issue before settling under the covers. Almost shyly, she slung an arm over Sylvia’s midsection. Sylvia hummed in approval, already drifting off. Mo pulled her closer.

They didn’t end up leaving for the airport right away. They ended up going for round three when they woke up. And round four in the shower. And round five down in the office of the garage which they both later decided had been entirely foolhardy, but completely worth it.

And then, Mo had to take Sylvia to the best – and only – restaurant in town.  And then Sylvia decided just to screw the damn conference altogether. She’d already missed nearly all of it, and most of what it was on she’d basically created herself. When she mentioned this to Mo during lunch, the taller woman had grinned at her, suggesting she might stick around for a few days as long as her plane was still scheduled for Tuesday.

They went home for round six.

Contrary to popular belief, however, they didn’t spend all their time in bed together. The next day, Mo took Sylvia out to see the sights. Sylvia found out that there was more to Arizona than dead grass and cacti, thought that still remained a vital fixture. Mo took her out to see the rock formations, even bringing along some climbing equipment. She assumed the corporate woman would blanch at the thought, but to her surprise, Sylvia easily scaled the steep slopes as though she’d done it her entire life.

“I liked rock walls as a kid,” Sylvia said, shrugging upon seeing Mo’s impressed face. “Plus, it’s easier when you only weigh about ten pounds.” Mo laughed at that.

They didn’t, thought it certainly crossed their minds, have sex atop a rock. Part of it had to do with the blazing sun, and scalding rock peak. Instead, they just sat on the coolest part, chatting about this and that. It felt so utterly normal, and right.

When at last Tuesday morning came, Mo started up her tow truck. Sylvia watched her, not quite understanding why she felt so melancholy about leaving a woman she’d only known for a few days.

After they arrived at the airport, and dealt with the busted up rental car, Sylvia tried to pay Mo for her services, but Mo firmly refused.

“Consider it on the garage,” she said with a wink. Though Sylvia protested, Mo refused to hear anymore of it. Finally, Sylvia relented. But, scribbling something down on a bit of scrap paper, she instead pressed that into Mo’s palm

“In case you’re ever in the LA area,” she whispered, standing on her toes to give Mo a kiss goodbye. Then, she left. Then, Mo was alone. Mo watched her go, waving as Sylvia looked back sadly. Sighing, Mo finally turned to find her truck long after Sylvia disappeared into the busy crowd. The drive home seemed so much longer, and so much sadder.

“Hey, Claude,” she said, calling up a customer who’d come to her with an unusual request. “I thought about it, and I’ll do it. But I warn you, it ain’t gonna come cheap. Fresno’s a long way, after all. We’re talking about twelve, thirteen hours. You say you want the car there in two months? Done.”

And she knew LA was about four hours away from Fresno, but hey, she had time. And, grinning to herself, Mo whistled all the way home.


End file.
